


Broken and Alone

by Catalina21



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Depression, F/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-16 15:16:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17552114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catalina21/pseuds/Catalina21
Summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts and before the Nineteen Years Later, Harry Potter is severely depressed. He hasn't left his bed for days and isn't eating. Luckily for him, Ginny stops by to check on Harry. She helps him through his recovery period, and they rekindle their relationship.





	Broken and Alone

It was the third day Harry hadn’t gotten out of bed. He had barely eaten anything for the last week, or maybe longer. He had started to lose track of time. Hermione usually bought his groceries, but she was in Australia searching for her parents. She almost hadn’t left, but Harry insisted he was fine, and eventually she gave in. He didn’t even remember the last time he saw Ron. Suddenly, there was a sharp knock on his door. Harry sighed, too tired to be nervous.  
“Come in.” he managed, his voice barely audible. Apparently the person heard him, as the door opened anyway. In walked Ginny. She sat down on the bed.  
“How are you holding up?” she asked quietly. Like she even needed to. The answer was obvious. But still, Harry lied.  
“I’m fine. What are you doing here?” After the Battle of Hogwarts, everything had been going well. Voldemort was dead, most of Harry’s friends were still alive, and he was dating the most wonderful girl at school. Harry had bought his own place, much to the dismay of Mrs. Weasley and Ginny. But it wasn’t until Fred’s funeral that all of the deaths during the War really caught up with Harry. He felt like they were all his fault. And they were. The next morning he didn’t get out of bed until Hermione showed up, wondering why he hadn’t met she and Ron for butterbeer. It just got worse from there. Hermione visited him most days, cheering him up and bringing him food. Ron would show up occasionally, but his visits were always short and awkward. And Ginny would always call, at least while she was still at school. But after awhile Harry stopped answering her calls, and eventually she stopped calling. But here she was now.  
“I came to check on you. Everyone’s really worried, Harry. Mum’s just about gone mad. You haven’t responded to any of our texts or calls. When was the last time you ate?” Harry thought about it. It was a simple question, most people would be quick to answer, and yet-  
“I don’t know.” he responded. Ginny’s forehead creased. She walked back downstairs. Harry could hear her rummaging around in his fridge and cabinets, looking for something edible. She returned with a beat up apple and a glass of water.  
“Blimey, Harry. You haven’t any food down there! When was the last time you went shopping?”  
“I don’t know. Hermione always brought me the groceries when she would visit.” Ginny shook her head.  
“When was the last time you even left your bed?” she asked. Harry thought about it.  
“I think three days ago. But I get up to go to the bathroom, at least.” Ginny still looked upset.  
“This is worse than we thought,” she muttered, almost to low for Harry to hear. “I’ll be back soon.” She walked towards the door. Harry stopped her.  
“Ginny? I’m sorry. I’m sorry for letting us drift apart. I’m sorry for letting you down, like this.” Ginny gazed at him thoughtfully.  
“It’s alright. I’m sorry too. If only I had known- never mind. But Harry. This-” she gestured at him, “is not letting me down. And it’s not your fault. I know you have a tendency to think so, but really, it’s not. Now why don’t you get some rest while I’m gone.” Harry nodded, already drifting off. It felt like sleep was all he did these days. Ginny shut the door quietly as Harry drifted into a fitful sleep.

He opened his eyes to find himself back at the Dursleys. But he was younger, maybe four or five. Dudley was running around the room, yelling and screaming, not giving a thought as to where he was going, while Harry stood at the counter preparing breakfast. Dudley ran past Harry, knocking the carton of eggs onto the ground. Uncle Vernon came running at the sound.  
“What have you done this time, boy? How many times do I have to tell you to be careful?” Harry shook his head, trembling.  
“N-No, I d-didn’t, I swear,” he stuttered.  
“It was Harry, Dad! I saw him throw the eggs on the floor!” Dudley said, smirking at Harry. Uncle Vernon’s face turned red, then an ugly purple.  
“You dare lie to me? You filthy piece of scum! No wonder no one wants you around. Freak.” Vernon grabbed Harry by his collar and took him to his cupboard.  
“Now you stay in there until tomorrow morning boy, or you won’t be having dinner for a week!” Harry nodded weakly as his uncle shoved him under the stairs. Once the door was shut, the tears streamed down Harry’s face, and the scene transformed into a graveyard.  
“Where are we?” Cedric Diggory was saying. Harry glanced around, and it dawned on him.  
“I’ve been here before, in a dream. Cedric, get back to the cup! Get back to the cup now!” He shouted, but it was too late.  
“Kill the spare.” A high pitched, raspy voice sounded behind them.  
“Avada Kedavra!” A flash of green light, then death. Cedric’s, Fred’s, Dobby’s, so many others. Someone was saying his name.  
“Harry. Harry. Harry, wake up!” Harry’s eyes flew open. Ginny was again sitting on his bed.  
“You were screaming in your sleep, Harry. What happened?”  
“N-Nothing Just a bad dream.” Ginny nodded. She had nightmares of her own, but could only imagine how much worse Harry’s must be.  
“I went to the store. I got some groceries. I know you like Mum’s corned beef sandwiches, too, so I stopped by the house to get some of those. And I brought someone else to see you.” Ron appeared in the doorway.  
“I’ll give you two some time alone.” Ginny stood up and Ron took her place next to Harry.  
“How are you, mate? Ginny said you seemed to be going through a rough time.” That’s the understatement of the year, Harry thought to himself. But he tried for a smile anyway.  
“Yeah, I’ve been better. How are you? I hope you haven’t gotten into any trouble.” Ron grimaced.  
“Truth be told, things have been kind of boring after Voldemort’s death. Not much to do if you aren’t out hunting Horcruxes. Listen, mate, I’m sorry about that, by the way. I never really said that.”  
“Sorry about what?”  
“When I left you and Hermione to hunt Horcruxes by yourselves. I’ve always felt guilty about that.”  
“It’s okay, Ron. I understood your reasons, and I forgave you long ago.” Ron nodded.  
“Right. Thanks, mate.” The two settled into easy conversation after that. They didn’t laugh, it was still too early for that, but they shared a few smiles. About an hour later, Ginny came into the room.  
“Alright, enough chatter, boys. I’m gonna draw up a bath for Harry, if you don’t mind.” Harry did mind, as a matter of fact, he wanted to stay in bed, but feared she would make him take one no matter what he said.  
“I don’t mind.” Ginny walked into the bathroom, and soon running water could be heard. Ron glanced at his watch.  
“Blimey, is that the time? I’d promised I’d meet Neville at the Hog’s Head in fifteen minutes. I’m off then. It was nice seeing you, and I hope you get better, soon, Harry. We all miss you, very much.” And then it was just Harry and Ginny again. She stepped out of the bathroom.  
“Water’s ready, Harry. I put some relaxing charms on it, if you don’t mind.” Once again, Harry did mind, but he just nodded. It took some effort, but Harry eventually got out of bed and into the bathroom. Ginny shut the door behind him. Harry undressed and sank into the bath, the warmth enveloping his every part. He took off his glasses and sank underwater. Ginny’s relaxation charms must have worked. He felt better than he had in a very long time. He resurfaced when his lungs started to burn. But he didn’t want to. The cold air hit him like a bullet. Harry sank as low in the water as he could, while still keeping his head above. He had resisted it once, but he wasn’t sure if he could resist staying there if he went underwater again.

After some time, the water cooled, and Harry stepped out. As he was toweling himself off, he heard a knock on the door.  
“You decent?” Ginny called.  
“Soon,” he replied as he quickly dressed into the clean shirt and jeans Ginny had laid out for him. He opened the door to find Ginny waiting patiently at the foot of his bed, a tray of food next to her.  
“I was going to let you eat in bed, but I think it will serve you better if you came downstairs.” Harry nodded. He knew Ginny was right, although he hated to admit it. He followed her down the stairs, at a slow, but steady pace.  
“I called Hermione.” Ginny said as she and Harry sat down. Harry looked up, horrified.  
“You shouldn’t have.” he said. Ginny shook her head.  
“She was quite upset that no one had called her earlier. She says she’ll arrive tomorrow, as that was the earliest flight available.” Once again, Ginny was right. Hermione would be furious with him for not telling her how bad it was. After that, he pretty much ate in silence. Ginny talked to him about their friends, the latest Quibbler and Daily Prophet news, and how annoying it was to be the only girl in her family, besides her mum who ‘doesn’t even count, as she is over twice my age, and boring as hell’. Harry only half listened, feigning interest, while the other half of his mind wandered. Finally, Ginny stopped talking.  
“I’m so sorry, Harry, but I have to be getting home or Mum will be worried. I’ll be back tomorrow, and I’ll bring Hermione with me. Make sure to eat breakfast. I left some porridge in the fridge, along with some bread if you want to make toast. I should be back in time for lunch, but if I’m not, at least make yourself a sandwich.”  
“Ginny, you don’t have to take care of me. I’m not a child.”  
“I know you aren’t, Harry. And I know I don’t have to, but I want to take care of you.” Harry didn’t argue.  
“Alright then. Thank you, Ginny.” On her way out Ginny turned back.  
“And Harry,” she called. “Don’t forget to charge your phone. In case someone needs to get ahold of you. Owls aren’t always the most effective. Especially Errol.” Harry grinned. Errol was so unreliable.  
“I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks, Ginny.” Ginny smiled and Disapparated. Harry stayed up for a little while longer. He plugged in his phone, put on his favorite television program, and watched until he felt tired. Then he went upstairs and promptly fell asleep.

That night, Harry’s dreams were peaceful, at least compared to most nights. Instead of being haunted by his events, only faces appeared. Faces of the dead. Most he could name, some he could only recognize. But they were all there. When Harry woke, he felt, for the most part, well-rested. He laid in bed for maybe a half hour more, but eventually got up, as promised. Harry ventured downstairs, and found the porridge in the fridge. He didn’t feel like heating it up, so just ate it cold, with some juice Ginny must have left. He turned on his phone and looked at his text messages. 593 unread. 246 missed calls. Some part of Harry felt bad for ignoring his friends, but the other felt nothing at all. Once again, Harry turned on the television. He watched until Ginny and Hermione arrived about two hours later. 

When they arrived, Hermione rushed straight into Harry’s arms. But she pulled out right away and punched him lightly on the arm.  
“You tactless little git! How dare you send me off to Australia like that? Telling me you are ‘okay’? Rubbish! What would have happened had Ginny not come when she did? Well?”  
“Hermione! Back off!” Hermione hugged Harry again, tears streaming down her cheeks.  
“I’m sorry, Harry. I just- I don’t want to lose you.”  
“Hermione! You will never lose me. Never, you hear me?” Hermione nodded weakly.  
“Now, Harry, have you eaten breakfast?” Ginny asked. Harry nodded.  
“It was good. Thank you.”  
“And what else have you done today? Just watched television?” Harry nodded guiltily.  
“Well, at least it’s something. An improvement from yesterday, no doubt! Anyway, Mum gave me this for you.” Ginny handed Harry a today’s copy of both the Quibbler and The Daily Prophet.  
“Thanks, Ginny. Blimey, is that the date?” Hermione nodded.  
“July 26. Less than a week from your birthday. Which brings up that fact. Mrs. Weasley wants to have a party. But I wanted to ask you first. What do you think?” Harry shook his head frantically.  
“No. No, I’m not ready.”  
“That’s okay. I’ll tell Mum that it’ll have to wait. I’m sure she won’t mind.”  
“Thanks Ginny. Really. The two of you are lifesavers.”

And so it went. For the next couple days, both Hermione and Ginny would come to Harry’s house and keep him company. Sometimes Ginny would draw him a bath, others they would just sit and chat. Hermione often read him the news, and talk to him about their friends. Especially Ron. Now that she and Ron were officially dating, Harry was worried that he would feel like the third wheel in their little ‘Golden Trio’. Hermione eventually convinced him that wasn’t true. At least Harry’s dreams were slightly better. He still dreamt of the Dursleys and the War, but the dreams seemed slightly less real, somehow. The days passed, and finally, it was Harry’s birthday. He awoke to a gruff voice saying;  
“Happy Birthday, Harry!” Harry could have recognized that voice anywhere.  
“Hagrid!” he shouted, truly happy for the first time in over a year. Hagrid scooped Harry up into his arms, and carried him downstairs.  
“Yeh don’ want ter be sleepin’ through yer own birthday, do yeh, Harry,” Hagrid said. “Yeh on’y turn nineteen once!” Downstairs, Harry was met by Ginny, Hermione, and Ron.  
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HARRY!” they chorused. Each was holding a small gift, although Harry had specifically said not to bring one. 

Harry opened the gifts over breakfast. Ron had given him a package of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans, and Ginny, ever the artist, had drawn a picture of her, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Luna, and all their other friends in front of Hogwarts. The drawing had been enchanted, and the people would move around, and occasionally wave out at Harry.  
“Mum also made some fudge. I left it in the fridge if you feel like having some later.”  
“Thanks, Ginny. Thank your mum for me, too.” Harry turned to Hermione’s gift next. Quidditch Teams Around the World: From London to Quebec. Of course Hermione had given him a book, but he appreciated it all the same.  
“Thanks, Hermione. Really, you guys shouldn’t have gotten me anything, but thanks, anyway.”  
“Hold up there, Harry!” Hagrid said. “Yeh still haven’ opened mine yet! Yer not gettin’ out that easy.” Hagrid handed Harry a wallet.  
“Sorry, I woulda wrapped it, but I ran out of time.” Harry opened the wallet and jumped back.  
“Blimey! It’s got teeth in it!” Hagrid nodded proudly.  
“Yup! Exact replica of the one I gave yeh back in fifth year. Made it meself. Yeh see, on’y you can access what’s in that wallet, Harry. It’ll bite anyone else.”  
“Thanks, Hagrid.” Harry gave his old friend a hug. Hagrid started to tear up, but quickly wiped his eyes before anyone would notice.  
“Well, I best be gettin’ back. I have a class to teach. It was nice seein’ yeh, Harry. Feel better.”  
“Thanks, Hagrid. I will.”

The rest of the day passed quickly. Ginny left soon after Hagrid, as she was going back to Hogwarts to teach a special course on Quidditch. So it was just the Golden Trio. They talked for hours, until it was dark outside.  
“Get a good night’s rest, Harry. I’ll be here at the same time tomorrow.” Hermione kissed Harry’s cheek and Disapparated. Ron shook his hand.  
“I’m sorry, mate. I should really be coming more often. But things at the Ministry have been crazy.”  
“It’s alright, Ron. You do what you can. Thanks for stopping by today. I’ve missed you.”  
“I’ve missed you too, Harry.” Ron Disapparated, and Harry was once again alone. He collapsed on his bed, not bothering to change into his pajamas. He was asleep within seconds. Harry opened his eyes to a frightening scene. He was back at King’s Cross, not the real one, but the one he had seen after he died. On the floor lay the crippled Voldemort baby, only he wasn’t as much crippled, or a baby anymore. Voldemort lay on the floor, eyes closed. He had a new body, once again, but Harry would recognize that face anywhere. Just as he peered in for a closer look, Voldemort’s eyes flew open, and he stood up. Harry stumbled back, trembling. Voldemort drew his wand, the Elder wand, although Harry could’ve sworn he destroyed it, and shouted a curse. There was a flash of green light, and then darkness. Pitch black. He, Harry, was gone. Dead. His nemesis had finally defeated him, and there was no coming back. Not anymore.

Harry opened his eyes. He was still in his bed, alive. It’s just a dream, he tried to convince himself. But it certainly didn’t feel like one. Harry didn’t get out of bed that morning. When Hermione Apparated next to him, he didn’t even jump.  
“Blimey, Harry! Are you alright?” Harry mumbled ‘I’m fine’ and rolled over. He stayed in bed the whole day, Hermione at his side.

***

The next day wasn’t much better. Harry would mumble incoherently, but every now and then Hermione would catch a few words, like, ‘He’s back’ or ‘Not Sirius’. Once he even mumbled something along the lines of ‘Just kill me’. Hermione was worried. Harry was looking dreadfully thin. He hadn’t eaten anything for the past week, no matter how hard Hermione tried. She eventually stopped trying to get him to do something he didn’t want to do, and focused on what he did want. Which seemed to be nothing. It came to her one day. Harry needed someone to share his burden. So Hermione set to work, creating a spell that had never been done before. After a few days, Hermione believed she was ready. She didn’t go home that night, instead stayed by Harry until he fell asleep. It was time.  
“Prehenderat somnia!” Hermione whispered. Her mind flooded with images. It had worked. She had entered Harry’s dreams. While she could still feel herself in Harry’s bed, most of Hermione’s senses were in the dream.

A little Harry sat in a tight space, tears streaming down his cheeks. Hermione looked around. This must be his cupboard, she presumed. She turned back to the crying Harry, and hugged him.  
“Shh, shh. It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.” Hermione comforted Harry until the scene changed. Now they were at Hogwarts, after the battle. Bodies of the dead were everywhere. The Weasleys were crying over Fred, while Harry bent over Remus and Tonks. He didn’t say anything, just sat there. Once again, Hermione comforted him. They traveled through the next scenes, Hermione helping Harry at each one, until he woke, and Hermione was left to dreams of her own.

***

Harry awoke hungry. He hadn’t been hungry in a very long time, and the feeling was foreign in his body. He rolled over and noticed Hermione asleep on the bed next to him. There were faint tears shimmering on her face, and Harry wondered what she was dreaming about. His own dreams had been actually tolerable last night. Although the scenes were still horribly frightening, he didn’t feel so alone. In each dream, there had been the presence of another person. Harry didn’t know who this person was, or if they were even real, but he did know he was happy they were there.

For the first time in weeks, Harry got out of bed. He maneuvered his way down the stairs and into the kitchen. He made himself some toast, and sat down. It wasn’t long until Hermione showed up.  
“Oh, thank goodness, Harry! I thought you might’ve- oh, never mind. You’re up! And eating! Oh, I’ve been so worried.”  
“Hermione, please calm down. If you are going to act all crazy every time I take a bite of toast, this is going to be a long day.” Hermione hugged Harry as a response.  
“I’m just so happy.” she whispered.

The next few days went slowly. Harry no longer spent his days in bed, and he was eating just a little bit more each day. Ginny had arrived back from Hogwarts and immediately rushed to see Harry.  
“Blimey, Harry. I’ve been so worried. Next time take care of yourself, alright, mate?” Harry nodded weakly, only happy that Ginny was back. She always came, Harry realized. Every single day. Even when Hermione was too busy, Ginny found time in her schedule to come visit Harry. Soon weeks turned to months. Hermione continued to enter Harry’s dreams when she could, having Ginny do it when she couldn’t. Hermione’s birthday passed, and although Harry got her a gift, he still didn’t have the energy to leave the house and attend her party. They celebrated by themselves the next day.

A month later, as they were sitting on the couch, Harry jokingly asked;  
“Since you’re here all the time, why don’t you just move in?” Ginny smiled.  
“Why, that’s a fine idea, Harry. Just let me get my things. Be back in a jif.” Harry’s shocked expression must have been priceless, as Ginny started to laugh.  
“Ginny! I was only joking! I can manage fine by myself. You really shouldn’t move in.” Ginny just kept laughing.  
“Well why the hell not? I already spend most of my days here, and if I stayed overnight, I could make sure you still woke up the next morning! I think it’s brilliant! Now, wait here. I’ll be back before you know I’m gone.”  
“Ginny-” Harry tried, but it was already to late. Ginny winked and Disapparated. Ten minutes later, she showed up in the same spot, as if she had never left. At her side was a red trunk.  
“Since you only have one bedroom, we’ll just have to share. Now, give me a minute to unpack.” Ginny made her way upstairs, Harry hot on her heels. They reached the bedroom and Harry raced ahead to block the doorway.  
“Why are you doing this, Ginny?”  
“Because I love you, you lazy sod. Now back off before I make you get out of my way.” Harry stepped aside, dumbstruck. But he quickly gathered his wits.  
“Then kiss me.” Ginny turned around slowly, then raced towards Harry. He returned the kiss. Harry hadn’t felt something this strong since he killed Voldemort. Ginny pulled away first.  
“We can’t do this Harry.”  
“And why the bloody hell not?”  
“You need to get better,” Ginny said quietly. “Until you do, we have to stay just friends. A stronger relationship will only put strain on your healing. Now, I will be sleeping on the floor next to you every night, so don’t go getting any crazy ideas.” Harry smiled. Ginny took his hand and squeezed it, then went to finish unpacking.

***

Saying no to Harry Potter was the hardest thing Ginny had ever done. She thought she knew hardship, but looking into those helpless green eyes… No. She had to stay focused. Harry’s health was what really mattered here. But that didn’t stop Ginny from dreaming. Maybe in a few years, when everything had been sorted out, she and Harry could get married and start a family. She could imagine taking their kids to King’s Cross, waving them goodbye as the train faded in the distance, receiving letters of new friends and adventures. What Ginny wouldn’t give to be living that life now.

That night, as Ginny entered Harry’s dreams, she realised she knew little to nothing about Harry’s life at the Dursleys’. She had seen snippets from Harry’s dreams, but still, she couldn’t imagine growing up in a household where she wasn’t loved. Ginny decided to ask Harry the next day.

“So, Harry,” she started at breakfast. “I realized last night that you haven’t really told me all that much about your time at the Dursleys’.” Harry’s head snapped up.  
“Why? What do you want to know?”  
“Well, I just feel like I would understand you better if I understood your past. You can’t hide behind it forever, Harry. Someday soon you are going to have to face it.” Harry slammed his spoon back down into his bowl. Porridge splattered over the sides.  
“You know nothing of what I will or will not have to do, Ginny. You have no right-” Harry slumped suddenly. “Never mind. I’m sorry.”  
“It’s alright. I shouldn’t have pressured you like that.”  
“No, you were right. If I never face my past, I’ll never be able to move on. I don’t know if I can tell you, but I can show you. Follow me.” Ginny followed Harry into a room under the staircase. Ginny looked around the sizable room. There were plush chairs, identical to the ones in the Gryffindor common room, a large cabinet full of vials, and next to the cabinet, a Pensieve.  
“I made this room to sort of say that I moved on from my past. From the cupboard under the stairs. But it just made me feel worse every time I came in here.” Harry led Ginny to the cabinet.  
“I kept every bad memory I had about the war, or the Dursleys, in here. You’re welcome to them all. I’ll be outside.” Harry left Ginny to her own devices. There were so many vials, one wouldn’t know where to start. So Ginny poured the very top vial into the Pensieve. As she dove into the bowl, she realized just how little she knew about Harry’s childhood.

Ginny put the last vial back on the shelf. She didn’t know how long she had spent in the Pensieve, but Harry would be waiting, so she headed out to the living room. Harry was zonked out on the couch. Had she really been gone that long? Ginny checked the time. 9:26 p.m. Wow. She really had spent all day in the cupboard under the stairs. She levitated Harry upstairs, and laid down with him on the bed. She kissed his forehead and removed his glasses. She too, was soon fast asleep.

***

Harry awoke early in the morning. Ginny was still fast asleep next to him. He wondered what she had seen in the Pensieve, and how she had reacted. Although he wondered, Harry wasn’t sure he wanted to ask her. So he made his way downstairs to wait for Ginny. She appeared on the stairs only a short while later.  
“Morning.” she said softly. Harry gave a nod in response. Ginny sat down on the couch. She pulled Harry into a hug. He fell into her embrace willingly.  
“I’m sorry,” she said as he cried. “I’m so sorry.”

***

“Harry James Potter. You have to leave this house! Nothing will ever get accomplished if the Savior of the Wizarding World stays holed up at home. We are going for a walk.” Harry muttered something incoherent, and reluctantly put his coat on.  
“Finally!” Ginny threw her hands up, exasperated. She pulled open the door and practically shoved Harry out into the street.  
“Merlin,” Harry said. “Someone’s touchy today.” Ginny tried to keep a frown on her face, but failed. The corners of her mouth twitched.  
“Walk. if I have to push you all the way to-”  
“Alright, alright! I’m walking.” Harry started towards the end of the block. “See? Walking.” He moved his arms exaggeratedly. Ginny started after him. It was a short walk, just around the block, but Harry still seemed tired afterwards. When they got back inside, he flopped down on the couch.  
“That,” he said, “was the most physical energy I have used since I was out hunting Horcruxes. I am beat!” Ginny started to giggle.  
“That is so pathetic.” she said. “Our Savior, defeater of the Dark Lord, beat death countless times, killed after walking a block.” Harry punched her lightly, but couldn’t help smiling, too.

Harry and Ginny started going for a walk everyday, each time increasing the distance. It seemed like no time at all before Harry was walking fifteen kilometers a day. One day, while walking, Harry brought up something he had wanted to discuss for some time.  
“I want to get a job.” Ginny stopped, stunned, but recovered quickly.  
“Alright. What do you want to do? I know you want to be an Auror, but I think that’s a little too much too quickly.” Harry nodded.  
“I agree. I was thinking I could teach private Quidditch lessons to kids at school who want more help.”  
“Harry, that’s a great idea! You should send an owl to Minerva! I’m sure she’d be happy to help.” Harry brightened. This conversation was going much better than he’d expected.  
“I think I will. Although I reckon I’ll have to get an owl, first.” Harry looked sideways at Ginny, and they both burst out laughing.  
“You can use mine. Minerva will get a ‘hoot’ that I named it Minerva McGonagowl.” Harry had to hold his stomach, he was laughing so hard.  
“Owlbus Dumbledore!” he said.  
“Hoo-Dini!”  
“Owlbert Einstein!” Ginny stopped.  
“Who is Owlbert Einstein?” she asked. Harry looked at her.  
“Albert Einstein. You don’t know Albert Einstein? I thought he was a wizard!” Ginny shook her head.  
“Huh. I guess he was just smart, then. Well, we should probably get back so I can send a note via Minerva McGonagowl.” Ginny nodded as the two of them burst into another bout of giggles.

(Professor) Minerva McGonagall, 

I am writing to you to ask if there is any chance I could teach private Quidditch lessons at Hogwarts. I’m looking for a job, but not something as high risk as an Auror, at least not yet. Please send your reply with this owl, who’s name just happens to be Minerva McGonagowl (Ginny’s idea). I really hope you’ll consider this. Thanks.

Your favorite ex-student,

Harry Potter

Harry sealed the letter and sent it off with Minerva. Now he would just have to wait for a reply.

He didn’t have to wait long. The next afternoon, Minerva was back. She flew in through the kitchen window, and landed softly on Harry’s shoulders. Harry stroked the bird as he opened the letter,

Mr. Potter, 

I would be delighted for you to come back to Hogwarts to teach. I’ve asked around, and there are quite a few students interested in your proposition. You are welcome to start anytime, but preferably before Christmas break. I look forward to seeing you again. 

Yours truly, 

Minerva McGonagall

P.S. Do you think Minerva McGonagowl is what I would look like if my Animagus was an owl?

Harry laughed when he read the post-script. He found he liked McGonagall quite a bit more when she wasn’t his professor.

Professor,

I’m already packing my bags. Is it possible for me to Apparate into Hogsmeade, or are the barriers still present? If so, where can I Apparate to? I suppose I should probably practice a bit before coming, as I’m quite rusty. I hope to see you soon!

P.S. I believe you are more of a tawny than barn owl.

Harry sent off Minerva, then rushed to start packing. Ginny was reading on the bed.  
“So she said yes, then?” Harry nodded.  
“Yeah, and she said I can start anytime. Do you know where my navy jumper is?”  
“Top drawer. And I put all your robes in the closet, left side.” Harry smiled.  
“You just know everything, don’t you?” Ginny sniffed and threw her nose in the air.  
“I should hardly bother with you miscreants below me. I am all knowing. In fact, you should bow down before me. Come now, bow!” Harry mockingly bowed, and tried to repress his laughter.  
“Did you just call me a miscreant?” he asked, chuckling. Ginny kept her head raised high as she responded.  
“Why yes, I did, as a matter of fact. Silly child.” Harry doubled over in laughter. Ginny couldn’t help herself, either. The fun was over quickly, however, as Hermione Apparated into the room. She gave Harry a knowing smile, to which he stuck his tongue out childishly.  
“What are you doing here, Hermione? Shouldn’t you be at work or snogging Ron?” Hermione shot him a glare.  
“I actually came to wish you good luck at Hogwarts. I think it’s splendid you’re getting a job.” Harry and Ginny stared at her.  
“How did you-” they started at the same time.  
“Oh, Minerva told me. We correspond every week or so. Oh, Harry, I’m so proud of you!” Hermione pulled her friend into a tight hug.  
“Hermione,” Harry protested. “You’re gonna squish my insides out.” Hermione let go.  
“Sorry. Anyway, I came here to give you something, return it, actually.” Harry gave his friend a quizzical look, and took the oddly shaped package. He unwrapped it to reveal his Firebolt.  
“Hermione!” he said vehemently. “Would you like to explain why the bloody hell you had my broomstick?” Hermione rubbed her neck sheepishly.  
“I may or may not have take it when you were sick. I-I was worried, and I didn’t want you to use it to do anything bad.” Harry’s expression softened.  
“You didn’t think I was going to kill myself, did you?” Hermione suddenly became very interested in Harry’s trunk. She felt a hand on her shoulder.  
“Hermione, no matter how sad or depressed I was, I never would have considered-” Harry shuddered. “Well, I need to be here to save the day when the new Voldemort arises, don’t I?” Hermione gave a weak chuckle at Harry’s attempted joke. Unfortunately, the mood was ruined, and Hermione soon left. Ginny went downstairs, and Harry was left alone to pack. The time passed in a daze, and soon Harry heard the tapping of Minerva’s beak on the window. He quickly opened it to let her in.

Mr. Potter,

I sent a Portkey with Minerva, for Friday at 6:00, p.m. You should arrive near the castle border, in Hogsmeade. 6:00 is just in time for dinner, and I shall introduce you to the students then. Although I reckon they all know who you are already. If you don’t mind, your lessons will start on Monday, after regular classes. See you soon, Mr. Potter.

 

“Ginny! Ginny, I’m going to Hogwarts! Minerva sent me a Portkey for tomorrow at 6!” Ginny rushed into the kitchen.  
“Oh, Harry, that’s wonderful! Harry, I’m so happy for you. This will be really good for you.” Harry hugged the fiery-haired girl. Suddenly he was struck by impulse. He bent down on one knee.  
“Ginny?” he asked. “I love you. You have always been there for me. I love your red hair, how you brush it out of the way when you work. I love that little smile you have when I’ve done something stupid. You are the strongest, smartest, most beautiful woman I have ever met. Ginevra Molly Weasley, will you do me the honor and be my wife?” Ginny had tears in her eyes. They started to fall as she nodded.  
“Yes. Yes! I will marry you, Harry Potter!” Harry beamed and lifted his soon to be wife in the air. He spun her around, and kissed her, really kissed her, not just a small peck on the cheek. Ginny smiled against his lips. They were getting married.

Two years later

Ginny didn’t know what was worse; her hair, or her makeup.  
“I look like a hag.” she said. Luna fiddled with the brush.  
“Of course not, Ginny. It’s just a bit messier than we like.” Ginny had insisted on doing her hair and makeup the Muggle way, no magic, and nothing was turning out.  
“Oh, stop playing it down, Luna. I’m just going to clean up and start over.”  
“You have to let me do it.” Luna insisted. “My father always thought it was good to learn the Muggle ways.” Ginny slumped.  
“Fine.” she grumbled. Luna cast the cleaning spell, and set to work. Once she finished, Ginny turned to see her reflection.  
“Oh my God, Luna! You are a lifesaver.” Ginny’s long, fiery hair was piled on top of her head in small braids. It was simple, yet elegant. And the makeup was gorgeous, too. Everything was perfect.  
“Oh, Luna! I love it! You are the best!” Luna smiled brightly.  
“I do what I can. Now let’s get you into that beautiful dress.” Ginny smiled. She loved her dress. It was a creamy, white, simple design. The shoulders and chest were adorned with lacy flowers, and the silky fabric reached the floor. It wasn’t a traditional wizarding dress, but Ginny liked it. As she dressed, she chatted with Luna. Hermione walked in just as Ginny pulled her dress on. Ginny twirled twirled to show it off.  
“Oh, Ginny! You look just stunning!” Hermione exclaimed. Luna slipped out of the room with a comment about Blibbering Humdingers, and Hermione and Ginny were left alone.  
“Thanks. What’s it like? Getting married, I mean.” Ginny asked. Hermione sighed.  
“Absolutely wonderful. Everyone is so happy, and bright. And you see him, and you just know he’s the one.” Hermione was gazing at a spot above Ginny’s head, a dreamy smile on her face. Ginny snapped her fingers.  
“Would you stop daydreaming about my brother, and focus?” she cried. Hermione blinked, shocked back into reality.  
“What? Oh, right. Sorry, Ginny. But you’re going to love this wedding. Luna is a surprisingly good wedding planner. Unfortunately, there’ll probably be nargles in all the plants, so watch out.” Ginny stifled a snicker.  
“I’ll keep that in mind.”

***

Harry paced back and forth in his room.  
“I can’t believe I’m doing this. What if I mess up? What if she decides I’m not good enough?”  
“Harry. You need to calm down. Ginny loves you. Merlin, she’d die before having to lose you.” Harry looked gratefully at his best friend.  
“Thanks, Ron.”  
“Yeah, yeah. Now stop pacing and put your tux on!” Harry startled.  
“Shit, what time is it?” Ron glanced at his watch.  
“1:30. But don’t freak out, mate. Luna and Neville have it all under control. All you have to do is be there. Just relax and get ready.”  
“Okay. Right. Yeah. Tux. Alright. I’ll be right back.” Harry rushed into the bathroom to change. He emerged about fifteen minutes later, in a black tux.  
“How do I look?” he asked, doing a sarcastic slow turn. Ron laughed.  
“Much better than Dean Thomas or Michael Corner would. But still not quite good enough to marry my sister.” Harry punched his best man lightly on the arm.  
“Shut up, mate.” Ron laughed.  
“Come on, Harry. You know I’d rather it be you than Dean or Michael.” Harry joined in on his best friend’s laughter. It had taken years to get to this point, but here he was. Marrying the girl of his dreams.

***

The ceremony was beautiful. Luna had done an excellent job with the decorations. White and lilac seemed to be the theme. White table clothes, purple flowers, white chairs, purple ribbons. Ginny smiled. Nothing could damper her happiness. And then she saw Harry. He looked dashing in his tux, and his green eyes stood out brightly. Ginny felt joyful tears fill her eyes, and quickly wiped them away before anyone could notice.

***

Ginny was stunning. There was no other word for how she looked as she walked down the aisle. How could Harry have gotten this lucky? Ginny was way out of his league, but yet, somehow, she loved him. As she took her place next to him, she gave that beautiful small smile. Harry’s stomach turned upside down. They said their vows, and before he knew it, Harry was leaning down to kiss his wife. He could say that now. Wife. Ginevra Molly Weasley was his wife.

Two years after that

Harry’s phone buzzed on his nightstand. He groaned and rolled over. It was Hermione.  
“What? It’s five in the morning. What could possibly be this important?” But Hermione’s voice urged him into a sitting position. Hermione rarely ever sounded unsure, yet here she was, her voice shaking.  
“I got a call this morning. Er… I didn’t recognize the number, but answered anyway. Um… well… It was…”  
“For Merlin’s sake, Hermione. Tell me!”  
“It was Dudley,” Harry’s face paled. “I don’t know how he got my number, but he wanted to meet with you. Says he has got some news.” There was a long pause.  
“Harry? Say something.”  
“Oh, right. Yeah. Er, okay. Tell him I’ll meet him at King’s Cross tomorrow at eleven.”  
“Okay. Um, Harry?”  
“Yes, Hermione?”  
“You aren’t going to get… sick again, right? Like, this won’t provoke a relapse?”  
“No, Hermione. Of course not. I’m better now, and I’ve moved on with my life. Nothing Dudley says or does can hurt me anymore.” Harry hoped he sounded more confident than he felt.  
“Okay. Good. Good. Well, I’ll tell him then. Sorry to have called so early.” And with that, Hermione hung up the phone. Ginny moved in her sleep, adjusting her position so she was curled up against Harry. Harry sighed and stroked her hair. He wondered what was so important that Dudley felt the need to contact Hermione. They stayed like that, curled up, until an hour later, Ginny stirred and rubbed her eyes sleepily.  
“How long have you been up?” she murmured.  
“About an hour. Hermione called with some interesting news.” Ginny tilted her head to look up at Harry.  
“Oh no, is everything okay? You should have woken me up!” Harry had a strange look on his face.  
“No, everything is fine. At least Hermione and Ron are. But Dudley called Hermione asking if he and I could meet up. How he got her number I have no idea.”  
“Dudley. Really? What has it been, six years?” Harry just shook his head.  
“I really have no idea. But I said I’d meet him at King’s Cross tomorrow at eleven.”  
“Wow. Okay. So I guess you’ll find out what he wants then.” Harry nodded in agreement. The rest of the day flew by in a blur and the next thing Harry knew it was 10:45 the next morning. Harry kissed his wife goodbye, and Disapparated. He appeared a few blocks away from the King’s Cross, in a dark alley, to make sure no one had spotted him. As he walked the last couple minutes to the station, Harry once again pondered why his cousin felt a sudden need to contact him.

As he reached the station, Harry spotted a familiar man. As he approached, he realized it was Dudley. A thinner, slightly older Dudley. Harry held out his hand. Dudley shook and they sat down at a nearby coffee shop.  
“You look… good.” Harry started. Dudley nodded.  
“Thanks. You too.” There was an awkward silence before Dudley spoke again.  
“Dad died.” he said, swirling his coffee.  
“I’m sorry.” Harry replied, looking at his hands to cover up the lie.  
“No, you’re not,” Dudley continued quickly when he saw the look in Harry’s eyes. “I mean, you shouldn’t have to be. I know you were never close.” Harry just nodded.  
“So. You must have called me to talk for a reason. Let’s get to the point.” Dudley sipped his drink.  
“I got married. Two years ago.” Harry gave a half smile.  
“Congratulations.” There had to be something else Dudley needed to say.  
“Thanks. Her name is Phoebe. Anyway, we have a kid, Oliver. He’s just turned two. We- that is, I think he might be from your side of the family… If you know what I mean.” This caught Harry’s attention.  
“You mean he’s a wizard. You can say that, you know.” Dudley looked a little scared.  
“Right. Yeah. I think he’s a wizard. He keeps making these weird things happen, like when he wanted his favorite toy, it suddenly appeared in his hand, and when he wanted to be out of his crib, the bars disappeared. I-I didn’t know what to do, so I came to you. It also took awhile to find your friend, Hermy?”  
“Hermione. Wow. Does Phoebe know?” Dudley shook his head vigorously.  
“No, I-I can’t imagine what she would think.” Harry rested his hand on Dudley’s arm in a comforting gesture. Dudley stared at the hand, looking frightened, but didn’t pull away.  
“You have to tell her. If you love her, you have to tell her. I can come along, if she doesn’t believe you.” Dudley nodded.  
“Could you? I mean, you don’t have to. I know I haven’t exactly been the nicest to you. I’m sorry.” Harry startled, and looked at Dudley. Did his cousin really just apologize?  
“Thanks. That really means a lot, Dudley. When do you me to come over?”  
“Are you free tomorrow?”  
“Unfortunately, no. I have to work tomorrow.”  
“Oh? What do you do?”  
“I work at the Ministry of Magic, as an Auror. They fight Dark wizards and witches. But I still only work a few days a week because…” Harry’s explanation trailed off. “Because I do. Anyway, I’m off on Wednesday. Give me your address and I’ll be there at whatever time works best for you.” Dudley looked nervous again.  
“Right. Yeah, can you come over at eleven, again?” Harry nodded. “Um, my address is… 4 Privet Drive,” at Harry’s shocked expression, he rushed forward. “When Dad died, I bought the house as sort of a memorial, but also as a way to face everything that happened there.” Harry nodded. He understood, even if he didn’t like it.  
“I’ll be there.” And with that, the two men went their separate ways.

As soon as he appeared in the living room, Ginny was upon him.  
“How was it? What did he want?” Harry sat down on the couch and pinched the bridge of his nose.  
“He has a two-year-old kid. He thinks this kid is a wizard.” Ginny sat a still as a rock as Harry recounted his meeting.  
“Damn. Merlin, that is so weird. He moved back into your childhood home?” Harry nodded. “Damn! This just keeps getting weirder. I cannot wait to hear how Phoebe reacts. This is going to be a complete shock for her. You have to tell me all the details.” Harry nodded in silent agreement and got up to eat lunch.  
Once again, the days passed quickly. Harry caught a witch who had attempted who murder a whole theater of Muggles. Before you could say ‘Quidditch’, it was time to meet Dudley again. Harry kissed Ginny on the cheek and Disapparated. He reappeared in front of the Dursleys house. Luckily there were no Muggles about. Harry strode up to the door and knocked loudly. A short, mildly attractive woman opened the door.  
“Hi! You must be Harry. I’m Phoebe. I’m so pleased to meet you. She gathered Harry into a hug that reminded him of Mrs. Weasley. That was a good thing, then. Harry walked past Phoebe as she held the door open, and entered the house. Nothing had changed. There was the cupboard under the stairs that had been Harry’s bedroom for so long. Harry paused long enough for Phoebe to wonder.  
“Is everything okay?” she asked kindly, but with uncertainty. Harry nodded quickly.  
“Yes. Just admiring your gorgeous home.” Phoebe beamed at that, and led Harry into the parlor.  
“This was Dudley’s home as a child. Did he tell you that?” Harry nodded absentmindedly. Everything was the same. Harry started to panic, and had to remind himself that he was not alone. He forced the panic down and sat down on the sofa. Dudley was entertaining a small child on the floor, whom Harry assumed was Oliver.  
“Hey, Harry!” he greeted. Oliver waved, as well, then returned to his toys. Phoebe sat down opposite Harry.  
“So what was it that you wanted to tell me?” she asked her husband. Dudley fidgeted with the stuffed animal he was holding.  
“I think we should let Oliver take his nap. Up you go!” Dudley carried his son up the stairs and returned soon.  
“Well, let’s get into it.” Dudley took a deep breath and glanced at Harry for support. Harry nodded encouragingly and his cousin turned back to his wife.  
“You see, er, I really don’t know where to start with this.” Phoebe looked very serious, but confused at the same time.  
“Go on, Dudley. It’s best to just say it.” Harry gave another encouraging nod, and Dudley started to speak. He described how Oliver was able to make weird things happen, and how Harry was a wizard (Phoebe looked suspiciously at Harry when that was said, to which Harry smiled sheepishly and nodded), and how there was an entire wizarding community. Dudley finished his speech, out of breath, and gazed at his wife. Phoebe looked at Harry.  
“Is this true?” she asked. Harry nodded.  
“‘Fraid so.” Phoebe jutted out her chin confidently.  
“Then prove it.” Harry sighed and reluctantly took out his wand.  
“Wingardium Leviosa!” he said. Oliver’s stuffed giraffe floated off the ground and landed on the couch next to Harry. Phoebe gaped.  
“Wha-how-” she sputtered. Harry tucked his wand away neatly.  
“Satisfied? I’m really not supposed to do magic in front of Muggles.” Phoebe seemed to be having trouble forming full words.  
“Mu- Muggles?” she asked. Harry nodded.  
“It’s the wizarding term for non-magic folk. Regular people like yourself.” Phoebe took a deep breath.  
“How do we deal with it?” she asked. Harry shot her a sharp look.  
“You’re not thinking of trying to stamp it out of him, are you? Because it doesn’t work. They tried and tried, but the magic doesn’t go away.” Phoebe shook her head violently.  
“No. No, that’s not what I meant at all. I was just wondering- wait, what do you mean by ‘they’?” Dudley shot a sharp glance at Harry.  
“Nothing. No one. Just, continue, please.” Phoebe gave him a strange look, then continued.  
“What I meant was, do they go to regular school? Or is there somewhere special?”  
“There is a wizarding school called Hogwarts. It is where I went, and where my wife went, as well. In my opinion, Hogwarts is the best wizarding school in the country. When Oliver turns eleven, he will receive a letter inviting him to attend. Call me when this happens, I would be more than happy to help you shop for supplies, as most of them you will not find in Muggle London.”  
“Thank you, Harry. I really don’t know how we would have done this without you.” Harry stood up to leave.  
“Of course. And it was a pleasure meeting you, Phoebe. I look forward to seeing you again the day Oliver receives his letter.” Phoebe looked surprised.  
“Surely you’ll visit us before that?” she asked. Harry blinked, stunned.  
“You want, me, to visit?” Phoebe nodded.  
“Of course! Why wouldn’t we? You’ll teach Oliver about magic, so he doesn’t grow up oblivious?” Harry looked at Dudley, expecting him to have a rebuttal. But Dudley just nodded and gave Harry a half-smile. Who was his cousin?  
“Alright. I’ll stop by when I can. You’re right. Oliver shouldn’t grow up oblivious to all of this. I’ll see you soon, then, I suppose.” And with that, Harry Disapparated, leaving Phoebe gaping in his wake. She elbowed Dudley.  
“Your cousin is so cool.”  
“He really is,” Dudley muttered.


End file.
